All Spliced Up
by CoKain
Summary: An eight hundred word, unsubstantial fluff doesn't really have a summary. Splicer fluff. GAY splicer fluff. It's a terrifying concept, I know.


[**Zer Author Note:** After several all-nighters of Bioshock that involved me cursing rather loudly at Houdini Splicers and, by the third night, electrocuting the Hell out of anything that tried to jump me this bizarre little brainchild appeared. It doesn't really feature any 'Canon' characters, but it does have two very confused Splicers in it, and don't tell me Splicers don't tolerate each other…Fucking Houdinis…So here's some weird fluff to enjoy reading or run away from. Just bear in mind that this is hardly very serious writing, I'm just producing mindless fluff to try and bring about the creative flow again.]

Olympus Heights was supposed to be home of the Gods. A beautiful, regal place. And yet…there was nothing regal or beautiful about where he stood. Anderson's glazed eyes flickered across the morbid scene before him, safely tucked behind a golden mask; the grinning visage of a feline masking his own. The little girl had received the worst; crusted blood matting her golden braids as she slumped forward in her chair. Anderson gave a soft 'tsk'. Such terrible table manners. He moved forward, his boots crunching and rattling the debris strewn along the carpet, but he ignored this. There hadn't been a soul in sight when he'd come up; the little sisters were neatly tucked away, and the others rummaging more suitable areas, squawking indignantly amongst when one would dare try and claim the other's findings.

"Now, now, little one," He cooed gently to the girl as he slipped a bracelet off her wrist, "Andy just needs to borrow your candy. He promises to give it back…" His head tilted sharply, like a curious bird, and gave her a startled look, visible only by his dull grey eyes. "What do you mean I can't? Don't be silly! I deserve it!"

The agitation brought a prickling sensation to his left arm, it felt as though little things were crawling and burrowing beneath the now off colored flesh. A hiss escaped his lips as he yanked the bracelet off her cold wrist and shoved her violently from her seat; the lifeless body flopping to the floor like a child's rag doll. Anderson stood there, panting heavily and clutching his glinting prize in his deformed claws. A noise behind him made the young man jump, but not as badly as the hand that closed in on his shoulder; a claw as twisted as his own. He gave a shriek and leapt forward, his knees colliding with the table, sending scraps of long rotted food and cutlery flying. His arm gave an agonizing twinge as the skin ripped and from it hornets dragged themselves free, spreading their crumpled, blood soaked wings and taking flight. The air was filled with a ear splitting whine as the swarm darted for their unknown target.

As Anderson turned to face it, his beloved insects suddenly dropped; their tiny bodies frozen into glinting icicles to be shattered as they hit the floor. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched them die, and Anderson's welted, oozing arm began to hiss and spit with an inward heat, but this too did not last. His eyes rose to the insect murderer and they filled with delight.

"Bradley, oh…your cat has found you again. I thought you'd become bored and wandered off. So I needed a shiny prize to get you back." He held up the bracelet, a proud grin on his face, though all that could be seen was the perpetual leer of his mask. "Little one did not wish to give it up. She did not have Daddy to protect her."

Bradley, who wore no mask, stepped closer and took the jewellery from the smaller creature, only to take Anderson by the arm and slip it onto his wrist.

"No use for shiny gifts, my kitty, you keep it safe from evil little ones. No, no, no, I won't be happy if someone takes it. It looks good on such a pretty kitty."

A shrill little meow escaped Anderson as he gripped Bradley's arm, taking a strange comfort in the touch. Bradley was his protector. The man (Or was it monster now?) kept him safe from harm. He hid him when bad things happened because Anderson did not know how to shoot. Bradley put a claw against Anderson's unruly brown hair, stroking what he could as if to reward the cat for his find.

"Come now, sweet kitty, I saw Daddy on the way up. He was waking a little one." Bradley's voice had lowered, and cast his blue gaze around as if expecting to see the hulking abomination appear from the shadows, a wretched little girl in tow. "Back home we go."

And back home they went. Hand in hand. Claw in claw.


End file.
